Diabolus
by luviemunro
Summary: Diabolus. Vlad cannot seem to shake this word from his memory, but what does it mean? What is he supposed to do about the strange man appearing within his dreams? Why can't he shake the feeling of being watched? Vlad's about have the craziest school year yet, but what if he can't even make it out alive?
1. Prologue

_Diabolus._

I looked down at the page, trying to decode exactly what I had written. The word burned within my memory. It was late, but the humid air seemed suffocating. Glancing towards the window, I caught a glimpse of lighting bolting through the night sky.

_Diabolus._

The word was mocking me now. Continously, this word formed itself into my dreams, but mostly my nightmares. Lately, the dreams were getting worse. Each night, I awaken in a cold sweat and an overwhelming feeling of dread. It was as if I could feel someone's eyes watching me from far away, only to wake up to an empty room.

Sighing, I ran a trembling hand through my hair, got out of bed, and made my way to the bathroom. The hallway was dark, carrying an eerie feeling as I cautiously walked. Lightning occasionally lit the hall, helping to guide me to the bathroom. Once I had reached my destination, I splashed my face with icy water. Images from my previous nightmare still burned like a fire within my brain.

Looking up, I met the eyes of a familiar face. The boy's black hair stuck out in several directions, his chapped lips quivered slightly. The image in the mirror had bright, purple eyes and fangs that made him look like a killer.

But a killer is something this boy was not.

I stared into the mirror, watching my eyes fade back to their dark shade of blue and my fangs slip back into my gums. These nightmares were driving me crazy.

"Vladimir?" a calm voice called from behind, causing me to jump.

Nelly stepped into the bathroom, but I did not turn to face her. I kept my eyes locked on the boy in the mirror. Oh how much this boy has changed over the past years.

"Vlad," she placed a hand on my shoulder, "don't you think you should be getting some rest before school tomorrow? What's the matter? Did the storm wake you?"

I shook my head quickly, the motion causing the boy in the mirror to blur momentarily. The bags under his eyes were very noticable. How much had I slept in the past few days? The answer was not a large number, that I knew.

I finally looked over at Nelly. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her glasses aged her by a few years. Nelly was shorter than I. Sometimes I joked with her, standing up and looking over her head, laughing at her height. She woud respond by slapping my arm playfully, joking about grounding me until the end of time if I bullied her any longer.

Nelly had been like a mother to me for the past six years, taking me in after my parents' death. She comforted me and dealt with my constant outbursts. Nelly knew how to make me feel better; sometimes, I even felt human around her.

I cleared my throat, but my words still sounded hoarse, "No, it was just a nightmare. I'm fine, though." My hands gripped the sink, a sudden dizzy feeling invading my head. The room went black for a split second, but fading back to color soon enough.

Nelly brushed a piece of hair from my eyes, "Well, you need to get back to sleep, sweetheart. You can't be late on your first day." Her voice was serious; her eyes casting worried glances on me.

_At least someone cared._

I didn't say anything, but simply nodded towards my guardian before exiting the room and traveling back down the hall. Once I reached my room, I stared at my bed, memories of my dream flooding my mind once again.

_"Do you not understand what you're capable of, Vladimir?"_

The man within my dream was not one I knew. He stood like a dark figure in the corners of my mind, never showing his face, only slashing words at me.

_"This is what you were meant to be."_

_ "Diabolus."_

I shook my head, trying to erase the memories from my brain. Crawling back into bed, I allowed my eyes to flutter shut, but I feared what layed behing my closed eyelids.


	2. Faded Memories

_ The little boy followed his father downstairs, jittery from all of the sugar he had eaten. A party hat still rested on his head, announcing his sixth birthday. All of the guests from the party had left, streamers still littering the floor._

_ "Where did mommy go?" the boy questioned his father. His father looked down into his son's eyes. They were big, bright blue, and full of wonder. His eagerness to see what his father had for him had made his excitement shoot through the roof._

_ The father showed his son towards the basement, "Mommy had to work, my son, but she'll be back later." It was difficult to lie to your own son in such a way, but the man had practiced everything. He had to do what he had to do. _

_ The stairs to the basement creeked on their weight. The father glanced towards his son. His son trusted him more than anyone else within this world, idolizing his father. Now, he was about to break that trust, but it would be worth it._

_ A cool breeze could be felt from the basement door that led outside. The boy giggled as his feet his the cold ground, "What now, Daddy?"_

_ The father led his son to a table that sat near in the back of the basement. Dim candles hung from the wall, casting an eerie glow across the stone wall. The boy hesitated, his lip quivering slightly._

_ "Daddy," the fear was evident in his voice, "what's going on? I'm scared." The boy looked at his father, hoping that he'd turn around and they could go back upstairs. Maybe they could play with his new toys he had received from family._

_ The father knelt down, just as he practiced, "Now son, would I let anything hurt you? Ever?" The boy shook his head, indicating his trust for his father. "We're just going to play a little game. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"_

_ The boy smiled, showing a few missing teeth, "YES DADDY!" His excitement had peeked again, and the boy raced towards the table, examining the wood. Straps were binded to the surface. Pulling on them, the boy asked, "What are these for, Daddy?"_

_ "It's all part of the game. Here," the man picked his son up, setting him on the table, "lie down and I'll explain the rules, okay?" The boy obeyed his father and kept silent as his dad strapped his son to the table. Trust between a father and son was strong, but the one who dares to break that trust, must face the consequences._

_ The father looked down at his son once more, kissing his forehead, whispering a soft, "I love you," before beginning his plans. Walking to another table in the room that held the tools needed to carry out this ritual, the father picked up a knife. Engraved on the handle were his intitials, a present from his father so long ago._

_ As he turned around, the father watched the hopeful smile fade from his son's lips._

_ "Daddy? Daddy, what's that for?" the fear crept back into the son's voice. _

_ The father did not answer. If he did, he may break, and he needed to stay strong in order for this to work. Walking towards his son, the father's footsteps echoed thoughout basement. Cries errupted from the son's throat, but the father would not hesitate._

_ "DADDY! DADDY STOP!" The father began drawing the necessary symbols on his son's skin with the knife. Bright red blood dripped from the open wounds. The knife gleamed in the candle light._

_ The son had stopped screaming, resorting to crying as his father continued slicing his pale skin. This ritual had to be completed before the boy's mother returned home. She would complicate things if she interrupted._

_ Walking back to the table, the father waited before continuing. He took a moment to breath, pushing his son's cries away from his mind. _

_ "It will be worth it," the father whispered._

_ The leather book seemed to glow under the father's touch. He turned to the required page, running his fingers over the bolded words on the page. The father picked it up, making his way back towards his son._

_ He whispered one word, and the word sent his son into an intense screaming fit._

_Diabolus._

I bolted up, only to be blinded by the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Just peachy," I hissed into the air. My alarm clock blared throughout my room, and I had to slam my hand down to hush it. Climbing out of bed, I tried to comprehend the dream I just had. It felt so real. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember the faces of the father and son. They were just blurred images within my mind.

Getting ready for school, I tried my best to remember anything from my nightmare. However, the only thing that pushed its way through my mind was a single word.

Diabolus.

The word seemed to echo thoughout my brain as I walked down the sidewalk. The sun was already steaming, meaning today would be very hot. I wasn't particularly looking forward to this first day of school.

My junior year.

I guess I kind of hoped that by now I still wouldn't be such an outcast. I guess I thought that people would somehow start liking me. Who was I kidding? Vladimir Tod. My name was cursed to forever stand for the boy who could fit in nowhere.

Being so caught up in my thoughts, I didn't notice the hurried footsteps closing in behind me. A body slammed into me, causing me to loose my footing. I began falling, but picked myself up and prepared for attack.

I turned only to find a blonde teenager laying on the ground, laughing.

"Not funny, Henry," I said, walking away before he had a chance to get up. Henry sprinted to catch up with me, all the while trying to control his laughter.

Wiping away tears, he finally stopped giggling, "Sorry man. What's your problem? Someone wake up on the wrong side of the coffin?"

I rolled my eyes. Henry, the only person to know my secret next to my family, always loved to make jokes about vampires. Most of the time, they were not funny, at all. In fact, they usually followed stupid stereotypes, such as coffins.

"My problem," I said, walking backward so I could face him, "is that my best friend is possibly the most annoying human being to walk this planet."

Henry bowed, "Why thank you, sir! I do try my best."

As we walked, Henry rambled on about some girl he was talking to on the internet last night. I semi-listened to his rant, but I was more interested in the sidewalk then Henry's love life. We rounded the corner, Bathory High School coming into view. Teenagers were huddled in groups, girls hugging one another as if they hadn't seen each other in years.

A group of popular kids called over to Henry. He glanced over at me and I nodded, assuring him that I didn't care if he went. In fact, I wanted the alone time. I needed time to think. Walking up the stairs, I followed other juniors to the gym, where I picked up my schedule and locker number.

Finding my locker, I threw my backpack inside and took out a pencil and notebook.

"Vladimir Tod, looks like we're going to be locker neighbors."

I swore under my breath. I knew that voice anywhere.

Meredith Brookstone.

Meredith and I had dated the previous year. However, I had to end it to protect her. The image of her on the laying ground and crying flooded my head.

I put on my best fake smile, "Hey there Meredith."

She was wearing a pink dress. Her chocolate brown hair was curled, falling over her shoulders. I had to resist the urge to brush a piece of her hair behind her ear. Meredith was beautiful, stunning even. Her eyes were serious, slight purple circles could be seen under her eyes. I couldn't help but feel completely guilty.

"So," Meredith leaned against the locker, crossing her arms over her chest, "are we going to discuss what happened last year or what? You didn't even bother to text me back. I didn't even get a proper explanation."

It actually hurt to look at her. "Mere, there's just a lot a can't explain and I-"

"Can't tell me?" she interrupted. "That's what they always say, Vladimir."

The bell rang throughout the hall. She looked at me, the pain evident in her eyes.

"Can we talk later?" Meredith sounded small, scared in a way. Maybe she was scared of hearing the truth.

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing my bangs from my eyes, "I don't know." Turning away, I made my way to my homeroom, not daring to look back at her.


	3. Clichés and Lies

Throughout all of my years of attending school, I have realized two things: 1.) The first and last days are always the longest, and 2.) If you are trying to avoid someone, you can almost guarantee that you will see that person several times throughout the day.

I did my best to avoid Meredith, but she was in every single class on my schedule. It was as if the school was trying to torture me. At lunch, I sat alone. Henry had made his way to a table full of popular kids, and I was not about to even attempt to sit there. Thankful for the piece and quiet, I pulled out my laptop to do some research.

Logging on to Google, I typed in the one word that had been haunting me for the past week.

Diabolus.

Before the results could even load, an overwhelming smell of perfume filled the air. I looked up from my laptop screen to see Meredith standing there. She was holding a lunch tray with a salad and water. The look in her eyes was one of curiosity.

"Can I sit?" Meredith asked innocently. I nodded, slowly closing my laptop and slipping it back into my bag. Meredith took a seat and turned towards me, forgetting the lunch that sat in front of her.

Temptation got the best of me, and I brushed a curly piece of hair from her face. She smiled slightly before speaking, "Can we talk yet? Or are you just going to ignore me all day?" Her voice carried a hurtful tone. She was upset, that I knew.

I cleared my throat, not sure how to respond.

"Uhm, I mean, I really haven't had much of a chance to talk."

_Yes Vlad, not like you and Meredith have not seen each other in every single class today. _I nearly smacked myself in the face. This wasn't going to go over well.

Meredith twirled her fork with her fingers, "Well, now seems like a good time to talk, don't you think?"

I glanced towards Henry's table, hoping that maybe, for some reason, one of Meredith's friends would come over and drag her away. Receiving a few nasty glances from a couple of football players, I focused my eyes back on Meredith. Her eyes were still fixed on me.

"Mere," I tried to form some kind of intelligent sentence in my head, "the whole break up, it wasn't your fault. It's not you, it's me?" The last sentence came out more as a question, causing Meredith to crinkle her nose.

_I love when she crinkles her nose. She is just so beautiful. It hurt so much not being able to hold her close, kiss her cheek, play with her hair-_

"So cliché," Meredith interrupted my thoughts. "You hear that off a television show? Vlad, all I want is the truth. If you broke up with me because I was too bossy or something, it would be nice to know."

There was pain in my chest. Meredith was truly upset, but it wasn't her. It really was me. I just needed some way to tell her this without telling her my secret.

_Maybe that's it. I need to tell her the truth. I can't be with her because I have a secret that she would not understand. _

I wanted to say this, but I found my throat to be completely dry. Closing me eyes, I could smell something, something very decadent.

Blood.

Opening my eyes once again, I noticed that Meredith was examining her finger. "God damn napkins aren't even napkins. I should be able to use one without slicing my finger. This school needs to stop being so cheap and buy actual napkins."

My eyes were drawn to her injury, bright red blood dripping from the wound. I could feel my fangs slip through my gums. Clamping my mouth shut, I got up. Meredith looked up, her eyes full of concern.

"Vlad? What's the matter?"

I shook my head before grabbing my bag and leaving the cafeteria. Looking back one more time, I could see the hurt in her eyes. Once again, I was reminded of the night I broke up with her. Pushing through the cafeteria doors, I shook the memory away, trying to remember my training with Vikas. I could not let a tiny amount of blood get to me.

Rushing down the hallway, I was to caught up in my thoughts to notice that I was moving at vampiric speed. I was stopped when I slammed into another body. A quiet _oomf_ left the lips of a man as we both fell to the floor. Papers flew through the air, scattering everywhere. I rolled over and got up immediately, throwing apologizes left and right.

The man began picking up his papers, chuckling under his breath. I couldn't see his face, but something was familiar about him. That's when I noticed the purple hat sitting on top of his head.

"Otis!" I nearly screamed as I fell to the floor, pulling my uncle into a tight hug. He smelled of cologne, and his arms wrapped around me quickly.

"Well, Vladimir," Otis picked up the last bit of his papers, finally standing up, "I have to say, you really know how to welcome me back." Laughing again, he adjusted his hat before fixing a stern look on his face. Otis glanced up and down the hall before speaking, "What have I told you about using your speed like that in public? What if the person you ran to had not been me?"

I couldn't help but laugh, "Sorry, Otis. It's been a rough day."

He glanced at his clock, trying to comprehend something.

"Why are you not in class, young man?" Otis took on a fatherly tone, one that I missed dearly.

I ran a hand through my hair, leaning against one of the lockers behind me. "I was actually in lunch. It gets quite annoying in there, and I drastically needed to leave." I crossed my arms, hoping that Otis would buy my lie. He was concerned enough about my blood thirst. If he knew that I was still struggling, he would go into an hour long lecture about my need to feed off of live humans.

It was easily seen that Otis was not buying it, but he shook it off. Making his way down the hall, he gestured for me to follow.

"So, what are you doing here so late? You were supposed to be here last week. Nelly told me you had something else to do."

Otis pulled out a set of keys, trying to find a particular one. "Yes, I had a matter to tend to in Paris. However, it is resolved. I stopped by Nelly's for a bit to drop my stuff off." We stopped in front of a classroom, and Otis proceeded to unlock the door. Following him inside, I jump on the desk, waiting for him to continue. "She's quite worried about you, Vladimir. Nelly said you've been having nightmares."

I looked down, trying to decide if now was the right time to tell him about my vivid dreams. Otis could be very helpful, or, at times, Otis could be very judgemental.

He cleared his throat, getting my attentioin. I must have been thinking longer than I had assumed.

"Well, they aren't terrible," I lied, hoping my uncle would buy it, or care enough not to press the issue. "You know how Nelly is, Otis. She can be slightly overprotective at times."

He nodded, "I suppose, so you're sure there's nothing wrong?"

"Positive," I put on my best fake smile.

Otis opened his mouth, prepared to say something else when the bell rang. I jumped off the desk, grateful for the interruption.

"I'll see you ninth period for mythology, Mr. Otis."

I left the room before he could say anything else, my blood thirst all but forgotten.


	4. Mystery City

_A cool breeze brushed across the field. The snapping of a twig sounded in the distance. The boy could have sworn he was alone. Swearing under his breath, the boy prepared for any sort of attack that may come his way._

_ The moon casted a pale light over the area. A shadow moved from behind the tree and began making its way towards the boy. The shadow was tall, lean, and familiar. His jacket made a slight swooshing sound as he walked. Once he stepped into the light, the boy straightened._

_ The shadow was his father. Excitement filled the boy's veins, and he took off, running towards the man. The man caught him in a tight embrace, wrapping his arms securely around his son. This is the only place the boy felt safe, within his father's arms. _

_ "My dear son," whispered the man, "10 years old tomorrow." _

_ The boy nestled his head in his father's chest, "Father, I've missed you."_

_ The father smiled a true smile, regretting his previous actions. Releasing his son, the man gestured for the boy to follow him. The pair made their way out of the field to the forest. Darkness surrounded them, leaves rustiling as the wind picked up slightly_

_ "Father," the boy said, standing close to the man, "where have you been all of these years? I thought you were gone. You and mother were both gone."_

_ The man suddenly stopped, leaning down so he was face to face with his son. He placed his hand on his son's shoulder. A wolf howled in the distance, increasing the son's tension. _

_ "It's too much to explain. You're far too young to understand. I need you to relax and allow me to do what I need to do," the father's voice became stern. The boy nodded, knowing he could not disobey his father._

_ The man dug into his pocket, closing his hand over the weapon. Now was the time to complete the task. If the boy was injured, it would be much easier to carry out the new procedure._

_ Another howl in the distance, closer this time. The man began worrying._

_ "It can't be," he whispered to himself._

_ The boy looked at his father inquisitivly, but received no response. Slowly pulling the weapon from his pocket, the man tightened his grip on his son's shoulder. Before the boy could react, the man shoved the knife into his chest and slammed his hand over the boy's mouth. His scream vibrated the father's hand. Tears escaped the boy's eyes and he fell to his knees._

_ The father should have felt bad. He should have felt some remorse for what he had just done to his son. However, he felt nothing._

_ Nothing but satisfaction._

_ Leaves crunched nearby. A loud alarm sounded throughout the forest._

My eyes shot open, the alarm clock interrupting my sleep. Leave it to me to leave the alarm clock activated on a Saturday. I spent at least an hour trying to go back to sleep, but the sun was not on my side today. Accepting defeat, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed.

My head was pounding. Placing my head in my hands, I tried my best to forget the dream. It felt like I had seen the clearing before, but I never wondered in the woods, making it impossible for me to have seen that particular place.

I got dressed and scribbled a quick note to Nelly, telling her that I was going out. Hanging the note on the fridge, I grabbed Otis' car keys and made my way outside. The breeze had picked up, reminding me of the dream. A cold shiver slid up my back.

As I drove to Stokerton, I kept in mind what I needed to do. I was going to the Stokerton library to do research on dreams. The peace and quiet was needed. Everytime I attempted to find information on these events, someone interrupted me. It took me until I was halfway to the city to realize one thing.

The library did not open until 9:00.

Glancing down at the radio clock, I groaned in frustration. It was only 7:30. This gave me about an hour of time to kill once I got to Stokerton.

"I suppose I'll have can find a diner or something to get some coffee," I said to myself.

I parked outside of "Pinapple", a small diner just down the street from the library. Few people were in the building. I took a seat near the back, examining the menu. A tall woman with red hair approached my table.

Her heels clicked, "What can I get you?" She was no older than 25, but the shadow's under her eyes showed signs of stress. The woman had a curvy body and walked with a tone of confidence.

"I'll take coffee, black," my voice was rough. The waitress popped her gum, nodded, and wrote something in her notepad.

"Anything else?" I shook my head, picking up a packet of sugar and ripping it open. The waitress made a disgusted face as I downed the entire packet. She turned around and made her way back to the counter as I picked up another packet.

A man towards the front of the restuarant kept his eyes on me. I glanced over, trying to figure out what he wanted. We stared at one another for a few moments before the waitress returned with my drink and blocked my view of the man.

As she walked away, I noticed the man making his way towards me, a backpack hanging loosely from his shoulder. This man had blonde hair that was styled with hair gel. He wore a suit that was hung loosely on his body. The man stopped directly in front of me, tilting his head slightly to the right.

"May I sit, Vladimir?" my heart beat jumped at the sound of my name.

I placed my hand on the handle of my coffee mug, "How do you know my name, sir?" The last word escaped my lips, making almost a hissing noise.

The man sat down, drumming his fingers on the table. He kept quiet for a minute, watching me sip my coffee. I was uncomfortable, and I would have loved to attack the man; however, the other customers in the diner kept me from doing so.

"So," the man unzipped his bag, pulling out a dark container, "would you like some?" He handed it towards me, and I reluctantly opened the lid. The smell was overwhelming.

I glanced up at the mystery man, "Blood?"

The man nodded, his smile exposing a gleaming pair of fangs. "Don't worry, Vladimir. I'm a friend of Otis. Go ahead, drink it."

The blood was appetizing. I placed the bottle to my lips, but stopped before the liquid reached my mouth. Slamming the lid shut, I pushed the bottle back across the table to the men.

"Thank you, sir, but I do not take drinks from strangers. It's common sense."

A smirk played on the man's lips, and he once again grasped the container. Without saying another word, he got up and left the diner.

Grabbing my coffee, I pulled out my phone and dialed Otis' number. It rang several times and went to voicemail, which I expected.

"...leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can," my uncle's voice sounded from the speaker.

"Hey, Otis. It's Vlad. Uhm, can you meet me at the Stokerton library sometime today? I really need to talk, and its very important."

Pressing the "end" button, I left some cash on the table and made my way towards the door. I still had a good half hour before the library opened, but I needed some fresh air.


End file.
